


Monster Baby

by PostApocalypticPrincess



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7167473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostApocalypticPrincess/pseuds/PostApocalypticPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a little one-shot Nadia and Deacon story.  I was asked to run a fan fiction writing workshop for teens and I needed a little something to read and this is what I came up with.  It's just a silly story about returning a Deathclaw's egg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Baby

“Do you really think that’s wise, Whisper?” Deacon looked over at her, eyebrows raised anxiously above his sunglasses as she threw all the scrap she had painstakingly gathered out of her bag.  He watched as she carefully wrapped the large egg in her spare clothes and then tucked it into her pack.  “I never thought I’d see the day that you found something more important than an old desk fan.”

“Oh, hush. It’s a baby, Deak. Of course it’s more important,” she replied, voice pitched low and soothing.

“This from the woman that tried to convince me to leave medical supplies behind so that she could pick up a sixth microscope.”

“Well, Sturges needed more supplies for rebuilding Sanctuary,” she defended herself.  

“Sure, blame poor Sturges for your junk addiction.  Is he also somehow to blame for your decision to walk us straight towards a pissed off Deathclaw?  I mean, if you wanna die, that’s on you.  I however, am quite happy to wait for the Institute to find me.  Somehow I think they’ll be more forgiving.”  

Whisper just kept walking, Deacon yapping at her heels like a five pound dog, while she carefully cradled the bag to her body.  When they had made their way out of the Museum of Witchcraft, she stopped to consult the map on her Pip-Boy.  

“Lynn Woods,” she mumbled under her breath.  She had heard the location mentioned on a holotape found next to the one remaining egg.  It was the only lead they had and she was going to follow it.  

“We’re really doin’ this, aren’t we?” He sighed in a valiant attempt to convey how abused and long suffering he was, but she was unmoved by his plight.

“Yes. Yes, we are. I’d give anything to have my baby returned to me, you know that.  How could I possibly keep another mother from her child?” Her voice caught in her throat and he reached out, hand stopping halfway between them before dropping back down by his side, uselessly.  

He wanted to reassure her that they’d find her son, that they would find a way into the Institute and snatch him away.  He wasn’t an optimist like Hancock though, and he wouldn’t make her a promise that he wasn’t sure he could keep. 

“Your baby isn’t a monster like this one, Whisper.” His voice was low and steady, serious in a way he seldom was.  

“Are you coming with me or not?”  She raised a single questioning brow in his direction.

“Of course I’m coming!  I would never miss a family reunion!  Do you think there’ll be food? Maybe Mama Deathclaw is flipping burgers and baking a cake right now!”

Whisper couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at the image his words created. “Do you think she’s wearing an apron or a chef hat?” She asked, her smile widening. 

“Why limit ourselves?” He asked with a laugh, falling into step alongside her.  “Both, definitely both.  Maybe one of those ‘kiss the cook’ ones?”

“I was more picturing ruffles and a floral pattern,” she remarked, head tilted thoughtfully.

“I could see that. A little smear of frosting across one scaly cheek.”

They continued north as the sun slowly worked its way across the sky, Whisper making calming sounds aimed toward the bundle she had clutched to her chest.  Sunset was quickly approaching by the time they climbed down a steep cliff and nearly stumbled into what was clearly the Deathclaw’s nest.  

Deacon looked around worriedly, but Whisper just gently pulled the egg from her bag and unwrapped it.  She placed a gentle kiss against its shell before placing it back in the nest with a loving caress. 

“You’re home, little one,” she said, straightening up and looking over at him with a satisfied smile.  Before Deacon could think of a suitable retort, the ground began to shake under the weight of large footsteps.  They both scurried back, Whisper reaching out to latch onto his arm.  

“Oh, now you’re scared!  Now that we have literally walked into its clutches!”

They clung to each other, eyes wide as the beast stomped forward.  With a few giant sweeps of her talons, she covered the egg under dirt and debris, stepping back to eye them suspiciously.  

“It’s not going to attack us,” Whisper’s voice was low, filled with wonder.  

Deacon wished he could say he was surprised, but there was just something about Whisper that inspired the impossible.   _ I wonder if she was like that even before the bombs.   _ The way the two of them looked into each other’s eyes was nothing short of magic and the hair on the back of his neck stood as he watched.  

And then it was over.  

The two of them backed away under the mother’s watchful gaze, neither of them speaking until they could see the Coastal Cottage, the nearest settlement, off in the distance.  Whisper nodded to the guards and the two of them slipped into the common house.  There was only one room left unoccupied, but they were no strangers to sleeping in the same bed.  When it’s cold and you find yourself sleeping rough, a shared bed roll seems like a small price to pay for keeping all your toes.  

They kicked off their shoes and collapsed into the bed, Whisper’s head finding his shoulder as his arm slipped around her.  

“At least one mother got her baby back today,” she said, laughing ruefully.  

“It’ll be your turn soon,” he told her, pressing a gentle kiss onto the top of her head, her hair catching in the stubble of his beard.  ‘ _ What happened to not making promises you couldn’t keep?’  _ Deacon thought wistfully.  __

“When did you become so optimistic?” She looked up, but all she could see was her own face staring out from the reflective lenses of his sunglasses.

“I think it’s all this travelling with you.  You’re a bad influence.” His ears filled with his favorite sound, Whisper’s laugh, and he leaned back into his pillow, satisfied.  

“You know you like it,” she said with a smile and he couldn’t even argue.   

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you guys thought that was cute! <3 
> 
> \--BTW, for any of you guys that read Take Two or CPB, I promise that next week I will be back to posting. Between preparing material for the workshop and moving this week things have been crazy. I have to be out of the old place by the end of tomorrow, so hopefully I can be writing again by Tuesday!!


End file.
